


promises

by vaultboii



Series: TRANSFORMERS DRABBLES [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, also angst, and a bit on Earth at the end, takes place during the war on Cybertron, that's basically it, this is just pure self-indulgent stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 06:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10657305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultboii/pseuds/vaultboii
Summary: he's scared to lose him.he won't admit that, though.





	promises

“You’re back,” was what Breakdown said when he finally stumbled through the doors to their medical ward, holding his arms around what used to be beautiful finish. No words were spoken about how he was limping, and one of his optics was a mess, but he was back and that was that for the bruiser.

“Yeah, and I look absolutely _hideous_ as well.” He took to stumbling across the medical bay, fumbling as he fought the urge to collapse. “Look at these scratches; it’ll take me _solar cycles_ to get these out.” A flourish of an arm, and he pointed to something that was leaking in his shoulder. He hadn’t bothered to check that disgusting mess yet.  “And look; an Autobot had to take a crack-shot at me while I was aiding some damn Decepticon supporters, and now I have a dent the size of Megatron’s helm stuck in my shoulder!  How the frag am I supposed to gather enough resources in these times to get _that_ out?”

A deep in-vent. He looked up at Breakdown, having finally made his way across the bay to him. Wide gashes on that handsome face stared back at him, and only then did he realize the condition of his partner. Broken optic, just like him. Shattered dentae. He was missing half an arm, _(and holding the other half too, the fraggin’ idiot)_ and a shattered knee joint. Losing Energon too. Really, a surprise he was still standing, honestly.

“What the frag.” He vocalized with enough concern that had Breakdown’s mess of a face smiling.

“Just some scratches too.” His Conjunx said in that deep, irritatingly unconcerned tone that had him standing straight and pushing the mech back to a medical berth. The mech’s smile only grew wider and wider as he grew more irritated, and frankly he was about to snatch his partner’s disembodied arm and slap him with it. “No dents this time though; more resources for yours?”

“I am this close to killing you, Breakdown. Sit. Now. How the actual frag did you manage to do this to yourself?” He was around the mech now, taking out supplies, taking that arm away from him and readying a welding tool. He just managed to tell Lord Megatron they needed more of welding scrap too. “You’ve ruined half your looks. Half! The only thing left enchanting is the lower half and, _as much as I’m thankful for that,_ that’s still _half!_ ”

“Only half? Well, colour me shocked and ashamed, I was aiming for seventy-five percent.” Breakdown joked, and then laughed when he angrily slapped him for it. “Calm down, KO. I’m fine. You should see the other mechs.”

“Well, I do suppose you knocked them around well.” He commented dryly. Scalpel was onlined. “That is one of the limited things you do know how to do.”

“And I had a Phase-Sixer on my tail too. He would’ve killed them if they had offlined me.” Breakdown added, ignoring his dry remark. “Rightly vengeance. Though, I suppose, having a Phase-Sixer anywhere near you would be absolutely petrifying. And lethal.”

“That was not encouraging in the slightest.”

“Sorry.”

The repairs weren’t simple. Breakdown grunted every now and then at pain, but overall the procedure was clean. He thanked Primus for that.

“You could’ve died,” he said finally after the welding was done, and Breakdown’s face finally looked like it had before. “You got lucky. You could’ve been one of them.”

There was the briefest of pauses. “I’m still here Knocky,” Breakdown said quietly, and it was almost as if something snapped inside him. “

“That’s not what I meant!” Too harsh. He tried to look away from Breakdown’s startled optics. He couldn’t find it in him too. “You just— every damn time you go out there, you come back in pieces. _Every. Damn. Time.”_ He gestured around the room. “And I keep fixing you. And we all keep _pretending_ like all of this will be over. Just one more fight. Just one more death. Just keeping shooting and shooting and _shooting_.” He stabbed a servo on Breakdown’s chest, and was his voice wavering? It couldn’t be. And yet it was, husky at the edges and _attached_. He choked it back, and tried to keep his voice steady. It didn’t work. Never worked. “And we made that stupid promise. That _stupid, stupid_ promise. That we’d meet here, and we’d talk, and everything would be okay. Nothing is okay. You’re shattered. I’m disgusting. And— and—”

“Knockout.” Breakdown said, and that wasn’t helping, the damn _attached_ voice of his. His Conjunx reached out and took his servo. He almost melted into the touch. “Knockout, it’s okay. I’m here.”

His voice heaved static. He stared into those golden eyes of the richest, greatest mech he’d ever met, and he hated how they were so soft compared to his. “And— and one of these days,” he spat, voice warm and filled with _emotion_ at the corners, “One of us...one of us won’t make it back. One of these days, one of us will walk in here, and it’ll be quiet. One of these days, I might— you might—”

And then Breakdown had his arms around him, and the blue enveloping heat of them just calmed that spastic beat of his spark, just sent a wave of peace through his core. He couldn’t hear the groans of the wounded anymore, or neither the dripping of a poorly-made medical ward that he had to call his own. He heard Breakdown’s spark, thudding in its own chamber, beating in its own little world so close to his own.

“What happened?” Breakdown whispered amidst the hug and he broke.

He didn’t know he was sobbing until the hug relaxed and his servos found a way around his beloved’s middle. “There was a— a patient, today. I couldn’t— I couldn’t do anything, and she just— faded. I was too late; if I was just there a little sooner, a little quicker I could’ve— I could’ve done something, instead of—” He mumbled into Breakdown’s shoulder, weak, quiet. Not as flashy as he could’ve wished he was.  “I held her when she— when she—”

“Knockout,” Breakdown said again, and it was so calming just to hear that.

“And when I held her— I thought, I thought about you, and it just—” His voice faltered and cracked. He listened to Breakdown’s spark, and it made things a bit better. “What—what if that was you? What if you left me and— I can’t deal with that, Breakdown, I can’t deal with that. I can’t deal with our promise, and I— please, please don’t leave me.”

“Shush,” Breakdown said, and then he was being rocked slowly, back and forth; frankly, it would’ve been embarrassing if he was in the right state of mind, but the calming effect it had on his scrambled processor made it better.  “I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m fine. I’ll always make it back here. I promise.”

“Promise?” He muttered, and hugged a little tighter to his bruiser. His Breakdown.

“I promise.” Breakdown stared down at him, and the smallest of smiles came at the edge of his mouth. “Now, let’s get you fixed up, beautiful.”

* * *

 

“Please don’t leave me,” he said, alone after Dreadwing left the medical ward aboard the Nemesis with the news that had destroyed everything he had ever known. “Please don’t leave me.”

And if he listened close enough he could hear Breakdown’s faint, “I’m sorry.”


End file.
